Feathers, beaks, and the sick laughter of Murphy
by Maromar
Summary: A human wakes up and finds Gilda in his bed. Hilarity ensues. (Port of the story from FIMfiction)


**Feathers, beaks and the sick laughter of Murphy**

The first chortle: Something dangerous, this way comes

* * *

I woke up with my eyes closed as per usual. I could feel the morning sun spreading its gentle warmth on my face as I stretched my arms out, popping a few joints while fresh blood rushed through bone and sinew. It was a Saturday, I could sleep in if I wanted to without the folks giving me flak about it.

Not one to pass up such a chance, I turned, pulled my cover closer, and nuzzled my cheek into my warm pillow. A few feathers must have fallen out of it while I tossed and turned last night, I could feel the firm pin-like middles grazing my flesh.

Wait.

I don't have a feather pillow.

I groaned, both mentally and physically. If this was another of Devin's pranks I was going to kill him; or rather, get Mom to kill him. It is unwise for a teen just out of puberty to engage a college linebacker in melee combat. Either way, trying to trigger someone's allergies was a low blow, even for him.

I cursed my brother with another groan. I had to get up before a reaction kicked in, the sooner I dealt with this, the sooner I could go back to sleep. I opened my eyes.

And through blurred vision saw a mass of white feathers uprange from a coat of brown... Fur?

"You really did go for the full nine," I whispered. The bed creaked as I sat up.

And then there was a beak.

And talons, very sharp, black talons with little detailed cracks in them at odd places. Closer to the head of the bed was a closed eyelid, bunkered around a patch of darkish-purple skin.

I frowned at the sight, who leaves a life-like griffin doll in one's bed as a prank? How the heck was it so warm? Was it plugged into the wall or something? The feathers probably weren't even real, explaining why I have yet t-

"Chii!"

I caught the sneeze in my throat.

_'Definitely authentic'_

The pain subsided quickly enough and I pressed my fingertip against the "griffon's" chest. A strong, steady pulse pushed back against me.

"Holy hell no, there's a griffon in my bed."

You will note the lack of an exclamation mark there, I had sense enough to whisper. I'd played enough _Heroes of Might and Magic_ to know what one of those things could do to fleshy, level one, corporeal beings like myself.

I had to get up slowly and exfiltrate unnoticed. If the thing woke up, I would be bird feed for certain.

Slowly, carefully, I inched backwards at a mere millimeter-a-minute rate. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast, fast is escaping predation.

_Creak_

_'Damn you, Mattressfirm!'_

Before I could void my bowls, the thing laying to the right opened its beak, revealing a small, slick, red tongue before turning over.

Directly on top of me.

It was warm, very warm and all over me, only my left leg was free of the surprisingly fluffy mass, I could feel the steady rise and fall of its chest on my stomach, it was still asleep, meaning I was still alive. For the moment at least.

I tried to move my right leg. My knee was pressed against a firm pad that reminded me of our cat's. The claw at the end scraped down my shin as it shifted over me, I could feel a considerable amount of weight bearing down on my shoulders and chest. The pad was resting against my ankle and one of the griffon's talons wrapped its way around my waist. I was faintly aware of a warm glob of drool penetrating the layer of hair on my head.

That was when God decided to let Murphy take the wheel.

A familiar pressure built up at the back of my throat, I bucked my legs up only to get them entangled with the griffon's own. Tried to cover my face with my hands to no avail; they were pinned by the griffons chest.

I sneezed.

I sneezed loud and hard and in the span of a single moment, signed my own death warrant.

There was a squawk, and the talons around me dragged my shirt a bit as they came loose, the pressure on my waist was nigh-instantly relieved and I could once again breath easily, though that was the least of my worries.

Its eyes, great dark things rimmed with yellow, bored into me. Its beak shut and it brushed an errant trail of saliva away with a talon.

_'Let us pray'_

_'Dear Lord, I am sorry for only coming to you when Murphy has me under his putrid armpit in a strangle hold, but hear your servant out this one last time. If you deliver me from the accused one's hand, I promise to never sneak bites in while the family is praying over dinner, even on macaroni and cheese nights. I promise to make no more Hitler jokes, no matter how funny they are. I promise to always change Oreo's water bowl in a timely manner and I will not weaponize my little sister's chemistry set in my crusade against the ants. Furthermore I-'_

"What are you doing in my bed?!"

My eyes snapped open;_ 'Did it just?'_

_'No, couldn't be. This is just my mind playing tricks on me,'_ I thought, this time squeezing my eyes shut hard enough to feel veins pulsating under the lids. I bit at my tongue about four times as hard. _'In fact, there is a good chance that I am already dead. I bet that it will take less than ten seconds for logic to catch up; I'll even count'_

_'Ten'_

_'Nine'_

_'Eight'_

"Well?" The same grouchy female voice struck my ears loud enough to make them ring. A cold, sharp thing pressed against my nose. With a very unmasculine squeal I forced my eyes open once more.

I stared cross-eyed at its curved yellow beak while my brain took a moment to reboot.

"Please don't eat me!"

There it was, I could always trust the old greymatter to get me out of thick and thin.

I threw myself backwards, managing to grab the pillow on the way. I grunted as I slammed the back of my head into the wall, which was much closer to the bed than I remember, through the red dots in my vision and the sickening throbs racking their way through my brain and spine, I raised my only means of defense against this hulking beast of war in front of my face.

It was torn away in a second. Screw you, Murphy.

"I'm not gonna eat you, dweeb! Just answer me!"

"You... You're not going to eat me?" My voice was barely above a whisper, I became aware of my pulse drumming thunder-beats against my chest.

The griffin grabbed my shoulders in its talons, tight, but not enough to cause lacerations; "No, but I might just gut you if you don't speak up."

Its voice was deadpan, I had no idea if it was serious or not but I knew that it couldn't hurt me, even if it tried.

My prayers had been answered.

I lightly brushed its talons aside, stood up, walked a few paces and kneeled, facing the window. Gilda, to this day, still laughs at me, saying that I wept like a chick at that moment. To be honest though, all I can remember was how ecstatic I felt.

I stared straight into the sun peaking out from the clouds, casting its brilliant rays on my raised hands, palms face up.

"Praise God."

* * *

*AN*

Well, this was not supposed to be my first fic.

It started with this ( group/50/the-writers-group/thread/121898/game-think-fast-gildas-in-your-bed) little thread as a quick thirty or so word answer.

That was when the plot bunny struck. It gnawed and bit and pulled at my brain until this came into fruition.

I am bad at following plans.

All I have to say is thank/curse you Seether00 for making me spawn this and may God forgive me for what I am about to do.

Tear this story to shreds commenters, it will only make me better at my craft.

(Additionaly, if you find a lull in the update stream; check my fimfiction account of the same name, there could be a blog post with a preview of the next chapter.

I'll do the same for this site, as soon as I find out how...)


End file.
